


The stag is real (and likes to be fed sugar cubes)

by cucumber_of_doom



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack and Angst, Established Relationship, Hannibal is still a manipulative bastard, M/M, but mostly crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cucumber_of_doom/pseuds/cucumber_of_doom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There, outside the window, standing in the bright afternoon sun, was the stag, curiously nibbling at the wooden railing. </p>
<p>Will is not too happy about the unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The stag is real (and likes to be fed sugar cubes)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to DreammasterLoki for betareading :D

The stag was back.

Maybe it was the stress of having Hannibal sit next to himself on his ratty old couch that was to blame. Not that Will did not feel happy having Hannibal in his space, quite the opposite, but compared to the psychiatrist's Baltimore home Will's own property looked shabby. Even if one chose to ignore the dog fur covering every surface. Hannibal felt comfortable enough to sit in his home, reading something on his tablet on an afternoon off, with Will next to him, grading the last of the papers he was supposed to return to his students first thing tomorrow morning. The fact made something warm blossom in the special agent's chest. Hannibal had been over several times since their relationship turned from semi-professional to physical – but in the end it did nothing to make Will feel any more confident in the state of his living-room. Hannibal always looked slightly out of place in the chaos surrounding him. Which was not the important part at all.

What was the important part? There, outside the window, standing in the bright afternoon sun, was the stag, curiously nibbling at the wooden railing. 

It was unnerving, watching the animal obscure the view like it had the right to be here. Will couldn't help but fidget in his seat while unsuccessfully trying to will away the creature outside. Maybe it was time to stop keeping the secret from Hannibal. After all, even his presence wasn't enough to keep reality within reach anymore.   
Will turned away from the window and took a deep breath only to let it out again and started fiddling with a looses thread on his cuff. He wasn't the most talkative at his best and opening his mouth felt nearly impossible now. Hannibal might be the most understanding person he ever encountered but there was always a limit to what a person would tolerate regarding Will's eccentrics.

“I have hallucinations, Hannibal. Been having them for a while, actually,” Will mumbled, eyes fixed on a muddy paw print on the floor. “I thought they might stop, my nightmares already come less frequent, you know that. But these? It feels like they are getting worse instead.”

Hannibal looked up from his tablet and sat it down on the small cluttered table. “On what occasions do they occur?”

Bless Hannibal for keeping his reaction professional, it gave Will the necessary confidence to go on. He could deal with Hannibal asking questions, that kind of conversation was familiar territory.

Will buried his face in his hands., eye contact was more than he could stomach. “Right now, for example. There is that stag I keep seeing in my nightmares, but sometimes I see him even when awake. It is very much like when I go into the mind of a killer. I think.... I thought...” He had thought it was his subconscious telling him about the Chesapeake Ripper but that no longer explained why he was seeing the animal now. “He is outside the window right now. Maybe I am finally going insane.”

There, he said it. Couldn't take it back. Nightmares and sleepwalking were one thing but hallucinating in bright daylight, while the only person who kept them from happening sat right next to him, was a completely different level of crazy.  
Will didn't know what he was more afraid of: Hannibal walking out on him or growing too interested in his issue to see him as anything more than some intriguing object to study. He was not prepared for Hannibal resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Will, that stag looking into your window is very real, I assure you.“

Will looked up, eyes wide and skeptical. “You can see him?“

Hannibal sighed, “of course I see him, Will. He has been roaming your property for a while now, I thought you knew.“ This was not the kind of reaction Will had predicted. He had to remind himself that not having hallucinations was a good thing. 

“I started to call him Hugo,” Hannibal added and Will groaned in embarrassment. The psychiatrist was familiar with an animal that Will had never noticed, enough to name it? What else had he missed? 

They were quiet for a while, Will hiding his face in the crook of Hannibal's neck until the older man spoke again. “Maybe you saw the stag on your property and started associating him with the case, it is a possibility- When did you say those dreams started?”

“Around the time the copy-cat murders started.” Will paused. “That even sounds reasonable. Shit.”

Hannibal's hand was warm on Will's back. “That would have been the middle of hunting season, reason enough for an animal to seek shelter. It is an intelligent animal that makes the connection between human homes and a lack of shooting. Or maybe someone used to feed it out of sentiment. Whatever the reason is, Will, it does not seem alarmed by either your or your dogs presence. A wild animal would need time to adjust to both.”

He soothingly ran his free hand through Will's already mussed hair.

“Not every connection our subconscious makes is necessary true, dear Will.”

It didn't feel right, but a lot of things in Will's life didn't. The only real constant left was Hannibal, the man who knew more about Will than Will himself.

“But I am sure it was not real. In my dreams the stag has feathers. Real stags don't have feathers, Hannibal. Every time I see it, it has feathers.”

“They don't, but, Will, you can't ignore the very real, featherless stag on your porch. Take a look at it, Will. Not feathers, nothing supernatural or scary. Only an animal.” 

Will sighed and slowly freed himself from the other man's embrace. Hannibal was right— of course he was— however there remained a very urgent question to deal with. “What am I supposed to do with this stag? Feed him sugar cubes?”

Hannibal slowly stroked down Will's arm to let his hand rest on the younger man's. “That is what I usually do. There is no reason why he should accept them from me but not you.”

Will blinked. “You feed it?”

“It seemed only appropriate to befriend him since I thought him one of your strays. There was no reason to assume differently.”

Will couldn't help the new wave of embarrassment. “That... actually makes sense, okay. But he isn't. One of mine, I mean. I can't even remember seeing him outside of nightmares until today.”

Having Hannibal focus entirely on him was still enough to make Will blush, Hell, if this was anything but his own home he would have probably found an excuse to flee by now. Seemingly sensing his distress, one of Will’s dogs started to whine. A cold, wet nose pressed against his arm. Will did not look to check which, and that alone indicated the man’s level of stress. If Hannibal was uncomfortable with the animals closing in around them, he did not let it show. 

“Is it possible you have been losing time again, Will?”

While the thought was unappealing, Will was still thankful for Hannibal's ability to keep calm no matter what. Will certainly was nervous enough for both of them.

“You know that is always a possibility. Nothing I would be aware of, as long as I woke up within my house. So maybe. Possible.”

He was no expert on deer, but the antlers looked the same as his nightmare stag, even if this one naturally lacked the feathers. Could it be? Was it only his sleep deprived mind making connections where none existed?

Will flinched as Hannibal pulled him to his feet and put a hand on the small of his back to guide him towards the front door. He instinctively tried to pull away, overwhelmed with anxiety at the situation.

“What are you doing?” he asked, following Hannibal's lead across the room and through the creaking door out into the cold air.

“You are going to conquer your fear, Will,” Hannibal said and pushed a sugar cube into his hand. Had he kept it in his pocket? “I assure you the animal is as real as you and me, yet it makes you question your sanity. Touching the animal might help to convince you of it's origin in the real, tangible world which will possibly help with your nightmares in the long run. Come now, Will.”

Will slowly staggered forwards, eyes fixed on the stag behind the window. It was surreal, walking towards it after seeing it for months in his dream, the sugar cube rough and unfamiliar in his palm. He was never that nervous in his own house, not while fully awake and with Hannibal at his side and only socks on his feet.  
Will swallowed. The animal was massive, several hundred pounds of muscle and full, pointed antlers. Out here, only an arms length way, he could hear it breathe, warm puffs into the cool winter air. It felt surreal.

Hannibal kept petting the back of the hand holding the sugar until Will relaxed and extended his arm, palm up, in a silent offering. Behind the screen door he heard his dogs move, snuffing and whining but still not as agitated as expected. Hannibal had to be right, he usually was about those things, wasn't he?

“Are stags even supposed to eat sugar?” Will asked quietly while the stag moved it's head and carefully sniffed at the offered threat. 

Hannibal's hand at his elbow held him steady for the stag to lick the sugar from his open palm. “Not in large quantities but a single sugar cube won't hurt. I am more concerned about your well-being than an animal’s, and anything that may help with your night terrors is worth trying.”

The stag didn't stop sniffing and licking Will's hand until every trace of sweetness was gone. It then shook it’s head, antlers coming dangerously close to Will's face and slowly walked away into the snow.

Only when the stag reached the trees Hannibal allowed Will to lower his arm and spoke. “There, see? Nothing but an ordinary animal, even if an unusual tame one.”

“So, it is real.”

“As I told you. The human mind has the tendency to incorporate whatever in encounters thorough the day into our dreams. Be it persons, places or animals. No one denies you are under a lot of pressure, dear Will.”

Will pressed closer against Hannibal, not sure if he was shivering from shock or only the cold. Hannibal would know, he had been right about the stag too.

As if Hannibal was able to read his mind he draped an arm around Will's shoulders and pulled him close. “Let's go inside and warm you up,” he said, and Will let himself be led back. It was alright. If there was anyone he could trust, it was Hannibal.


End file.
